A/N: This chapter is going to be somewhat different, and deals with the magical world and the repercussions of Harry's disappearance. I will probably do other chapters like this later. As usual, I own nothing aside from the plot. I don't know too much of Shacklebolt's character, so please tell me if I make a mistake in his characterization.

When Voldemort was killed, the Wizarding population of the British Isles understandably celebrated like there was no tomorrow. The celebrations however, were tinged with great sorrow. The cost of the Battle of Hogwarts had been horrendous, many dying painful deaths and the survivors haunted by their losses. And none felt it more keenly than Harry Potter, everyone assumed, correctly. They also correctly assumed when he disappeared that he wanted to get away, also correctly.

However where they went wrong was where he had gone, and for how long. Most assumed he would resurface in a few weeks, and when he didn't, tensions rose. Where was their Messiah? The masses asked. Who drove him away? Even the Muggle Prime Minister inquired after him in his first meeting with Interim Minister Shacklebolt.

The Prime Minister was sitting behind his desk, and currently thanking whichever God had delivered him from the long year of murders, disasters and darkness. The darkness had reached its apex, the Prime Minister mused, in June/July, then abruptly had been cleared. He half expected Rufus Scrimgeour to come through the fire to announce all was well. But the fire and the wretched portrait that usually heralded the Minister for Magic's visits had stayed silent, and in the case of the portrait, totally oblivious to his occasional inquiries as to whether the Minister for Magic would be visiting.

Thus, the Prime Minister had thanked good fortune and resolved to ignore it for the rest of his term in office. Unfortunately for him, this was the same evening that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been installed as Interim Minister. The Prime Minister had been relaxing in his chair when he heard the ominous cough, followed by the frog like man in the portrait saying, "To the Muggle Prime Minister, urgent meeting required, Interim Minister for Magic."

The Prime Minister swivelled in his chair so that he faced the picture that had been the bane of his term of office. He had never heard the title, Interim Minister for Magic, but with a sinking feeling felt that it boded ill. With a sinking heart, he sighed, "Yes, yes I'll meet him."

He turned to the fire and straightened in his chair, eyeing the fire, which promptly turned green and a spinning figure appeared. As the Prime Minister looked closer, the figure didn't look like Scrimgeour, but it did look familiar. Very familiar. The Prime Minister watched, stunned, as his former aide stepped out of the fire. And he'd thought the Wizarding world could provide him with no more surprises.

"S-Shackelbolt?" The Prime Minister stammered, then got a grip on himself and snapped, "Shacklebolt, what are you doing here, are you coming with-" The Prime Minister was cut off by Shacklebolt who said in his deep voice, "Hello Prime Minister. I am, as you may have guessed, the Interim Minister for Magic. My Predecessor, Rufus Scrimgeour was murdered by-" Shacklebolt took a deep breath, and the Prime Minister took this as a signal to get out something strong to drink.

"Voldemort. He died fighting and afterwards Voldemort installed a Quisling, if you are familiar with the phrase, a puppet that was at his beck and call. He ruled the country for the last year, he and his minions torturing and killing people, often just for the fun of it."

By this time the Prime Minister was gripping the Single Malt whiskey bottle in a vice like grip. Shacklebolt appeared to take no notice. "Thankfully he is dead, for the final time. His nemesis and our deliverer, a young man called Harry Potter, have you heard the name?"

The Prime Minister nodded, remembering that many of Fudge's appearances had mentioned someone of that name, leading Shacklebolt to continue "Harry managed to kill Voldemort in single combat, something that only one other wizard got even close to doing out of the many powerful wizards who fought him, despite Harry having been prophesied to do so, we are still not entirely sure how precisely he did it. The confrontation and he understanding of its result are deeply mired in complex wand lore."

The Prime Minister sank thankfully into his chair, raising a glass of whiskey to his lips and drinking it while watching Shacklebolt. "So Voldemort is dead then? And his followers?" The Prime Minister queried hopefully.

"He is, and most of his followers were killed but…" Shacklebolt closed his eyes briefly then continued. "At a very great cost. The final battle between what forces we managed to scrape together and his dark army was at Hogwarts School, the chief magical school in Britain and one of the best in the world. Students, save those of age, were banned from fighting, though at least 45 snuck back in, avoiding evacuation. They made up a large portion of our 56 casualties. Some of our best witches and wizards died fighting, as not only did he bring his human minions, he also brought Giants, hundreds of Dementors and Acromantula, essentially giant poisonous tarantula's with human intelligence."

The Prime Minister interrupted quietly and sincerely, feeling a distinct sense of pity for the tired looking man opposite him in a way he had never felt for Fudge.

"My dear chap I am so sorry." Shacklebolt acknowledged the Prime Ministers sympathy then rounded off his story in something approaching a monotone.

"However, the centaurs of the school forest joined the fight on our side, as did one of the smaller giants. I and two other very powerful witches and wizards fought Voldemort himself, after he joined the fray, and he deflected our spells like they were an afterthought. One of the of age students managed to behead his pet snake, an enormous thing with deadly poison with a very powerful artefact and Harry, who had played dead, something we are also not sure how he managed, having been hit by the normally infallible killing curse, managed to kill Voldemort, deflecting his killing curse back at him." Shacklebolt finished, taking a large gulp of scotch.

"All is well then?" The Prime Minister said, not really expecting a yes.

"Mostly." Shacklebolt replied and said heavily, "Harry Potter has disappeared. He went missing 10 weeks ago and hasn't reappeared since. A couple of months after the battle he was gone, taking his luggage and left a note, apologising for leaving, and saying he had to get away for a while. This was the headline in the Wizarding newspaper this morning. Don't worry about the pictures, they're meant to do that." Shacklebolt reached inside his cloak and withdrew a much folded newspaper and laid it in front of the Prime Minister who read the headlines which screamed:

Harry Potter still missing

Ministry refuses to comment

A moving picture of a slightly embarrassed looking young man who appeared to be trying to ward off the camera was below, and he assumed it was Harry Potter in the photo, an assumption corroborated by the caption beneath. The Prime minister, recognising the significance of the headlines and reading through the vicious critique of the entire Ministry in an article that practically oozed vitriol, by someone called Rita Skeeter, winced. He had seen more than one such article directed at himself. A small section at the bottom of the paper said:

Shacklebolt appointed Interim Minister

The rest of the paper mostly talked about either the Ministry's ineptitude or the missing person, going into detail about his personal history and tactlessly speculating that one of his friends had murdered him of all things, claiming a potential 'crime of passion' by 'persons addled by jealously and stress'.

The Prime Minister looked up, his face grey, at Shacklebolt who said quietly, "They've been running articles like this for the last 5 weeks. This is the worst so far." He stood up and stared out the window. "We've had everyone out looking for him, and all the leads go cold at Hogwarts. If the portraits know anything…"

Here he waved at the painting of the man who carried messages from the Ministry to the Prime Minister to demonstrate the portraits abilities "…they're not saying. Potter is known to have a large degree of knowledge about the castle's secrets and may even have a magical map that documents them according to a highly reliable source close to him, who claims to have given Potter the map, which means he could have avoided being spotted. If any of the portrait's knows what happened to him and where he went, it is the portrait of the late headmaster Dumbledore, one of the most powerful and clever wizards ever to have existed, and Harry's mentor and protector after a fashion." Shacklebolt sighed again and added ruefully, "However, far be it from Dumbledore to not be enigmatic, alive or dead. He hasn't outright lied, but that isn't the same as telling the truth."

The Prime Minister nodded mutely. After nearly 20 years in politics, he knew exactly how that trick worked.

Shacklebolt stood up and held out his hand to the Prime Minister who shook it firmly. "It's good to be working with you again, though hopefully I won't need to speak to you much, if at all." And with that he stepped into the fire with went green once more and disappeared.

The Prime Minister lowered himself back into his chair again. He remembered where he had heard that before.